World of Decay

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Name: Xiaomei Xian

Age: 30

Gender: Female


(Yes, she really does dress like that, minus the bow)

Personality: Xiaomei does not express emotion often. Most of the time, her facial expression says "I am not impressed." Instead, she expresses herself through her many creations. She has a certain snobbishness when it comes to what passes for aesthetics and design in the modern world. So much so that as much as possible, she avoids normal mass-produced clothing, possessions, etc. and tries to live in a world of her own creation (and that of other DIY/Maker types like herself). She's generally standoffish, knowing full well that people think she's weird. After Z-Day, she has tried to become more sociable since she believes that now more than ever, people need to bloody cooperate already, but she also finds it hard to trust, because it seems too many people think the Hobbesian/Darwinian route is the way to go.

Xiaomei loves to learn new skills, especially if they involve creating needed goods and services. Skills are trade goods that no one can take away.


Ugliness: Xiaomei has something akin to a mental allergy to ugliness. Just going around in an average modern city or suburb pre-Z was like having to listen to constant loud fingernails-on-chalkboard. Before everything went to crap. She fears that now, she may end up spending the rest of her life wearing filthy, scavenged rags of clothes that were sloppy and ugly even when they were brand new, surrounded by a world turned to broken-down walking-corpse-infested garbage in which nothing of beauty survives. She intends to stave off that fate as long as possible, even if that means her actions, choices of equipment, etc. are not entirely practical.

Turning into a Zed.

Turning into the kind of person who can kill other human beings or indifferently watch them suffer without qualms; the whole "you have to become a barbarian to survive in a hard world" thing. Also, the social equivalent: that if the Zeds don't win, human brutes will, and what's left of humanity will be thrown back into a vicious Dark Age, or worse.

Losing the Imladris (see below)

Guns. She's never liked them, and now they (in the hands of the wrong sort of people) are a bigger threat than the zombies.


Xiaomei's parents were high-flying Chinese businesspeople in Hong Kong, and she grew up hating the push-push-push, faster-faster-faster, more-more-more lifestyle they led (and tried to teach her to lead) in the insatiable quest for Success. As soon as she got the chance, she left for the UK on a student visa (ostensibly to study business), then switched her major to sustainable design, with minors in art and fashion design. After school, she traveled around, making her living creating making and selling costumes, armor, and gear at renaissance fairs, steampunk festivals, science fiction and fantasy conventions, as well as selling her wares over the internet. For this, her parents disowned her.

Xiaomei had long been expecting Collapse to come; many of her life choices had revolved around preparing for it. In her view, the endless exponential growth financial-industrial capitalism required to survive was mathematically impossible on a finite planet. Over several years, she created the Imladris as a home so she could live and travel sustainably off-grid. Before Z-Day, she often chided the "apocalyptic" Doomer types on her blog. In reality (or so she often said), the decline and fall of a civilization is a long, painful, bumpy process that takes place over one or more centuries. The people who were expecting and preparing for an instant, total financial collapse or a "zombie apocalypse" would find themselves SOL when reality served up gradual worsening of circumstances punctuated by the stair-step tumbles of the occasional Greater Depression or world war until humanity's descendants found themselves herding sheep under crumbling overpasses, rather than a situation where a bunker stuffed with guns, gold, and canned beans would ever prove useful.

Xiaomei has had to eat those words--or would have had to, if there was still an internet.

Weapon: Hand-and-a-half sword


The Imladris, a "transforming castle truck" that looks and functions a lot like this, but with more Art Nouveau and Celtic design elements. It runs on biodiesel Xiaomei makes from french fry grease or vegetable oil (these are obviously becoming much harder to lay hands on in quantity). It took her years to create, contains her workshop, tools, books, and supplies, and she values it very highly.

Shadowfax, a wooden recumbent trike Xiaomei traded a suit of armor and an Elven costume for, and this bike cargo trailer (minus the signs).


Historical European Martial Arts (German and Italian style longsword combat)
Sewing, leather working, metal working, wood working, bicycle maintenance, some permaculture. Basic electronics (enough to wire up a solar power system, hook up lights and switches and the like). She also brewed her first batch of mead just before the zombies came.

Location: London (will change to NY if desired)
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Can I have a ten-year old character? (I'll have two other characters with her, one that is nineteen and one that is twenty-six, if that's okay.)
Where is the person that plays Beth? I can't do anything without them replying.
My character's named Beth but I don't think you mean me. xD
Elizabeth Harven
Beth, Eliza, Scarecrow









Physical Description:

Beth stands at 5'6, She's a skinny thing and is flexible. She can run pretty fast, I guess you could say. She has red hair that falls mid-back, Blue eyes and fair skin with very light freckles on her arms and face.
It's possible she loves her leather jacket more than life itself.


She's sarcastic, a girl who would rather be on her own than be immersed in a group of people she didn't know. She's a bit of a loner, I guess you could say, but tries her best to be friendly and kind. She has so much some trouble trusting others, because even if they are alive, she's seen what the living can do. And boy, it isn't pretty.
+ Weapons of any kind. They fascinate her. Whether it be a complex gun, a unique melee item or just simply a cool looking knife, she loves them.
+ Singing. She'll usually be found singing what songs she remembers.
+ Shooting/Practicing shooting
+ Helping others, getting others better.
+ Being a Doctor.
+ Fixing up cars or making things.
+ Walks in the rain
+ Soft music
+ Stories
+ Books. Books books books.
+ Flames. (She tends to be a Pyromaniac. Keep the butane away from her.)
+ Safe places
+ Having time to just live.
- Rude people
- People who judge based on appearance. It's the apocalypse, people. Not everyone is going to look like they came from a five-star hotel.
- To be blunt, Assholes.
- People who criticize based on little knowledge about said person.
- Not having her coffee in the morning
- The fact that she doesn't know if her half-sister is alive.
- Cliffhangers
- Gut-wrenching authors like JoHN GREEN.
- This world.
- Death

Beth, or better known as Scarecrow in her school, was the small-time drug dealer in her hometown. She was only known by that by her peers, and she was a fairly good girl other than that. Don't get me wrong or anything, she wasn't supplying meth or heroine to anyone. Just small things, like Baclofen or Ritalin or things that teenagers were into. It was just small sales to keep her on her feet during the times she went on a rebellious streak and her parents kicked her out of the house.
Her father owned a clinic, and she often bought meds from the person that supplied said clinic. Her father taught her a lot about medicine, and as an early child she was always bright. Her family died in the beginning, and she learned anything and everything she could from her father's old textbooks. She sought the cure for the virus, but months and months later she still had nothing. She realized one day, as she was teetering between another high due to the failure of her 'life mission', that her family would want her to live and do what she could to survive, and if they could see her then they would've been ashamed. She cleaned herself up, planning on making it out alive, even if alive was just one more week. She makes weapons and other things to sell, trading those things for food, water, necessities, ect. She sells the remaining drugs to people who have something she wants in exchange, usually biding her time unless she was in critical need for something or unless a particular person had something she wanted most. She had stolen drugs when shit hit the fan, living off of small-time sales and doctor services. (Because, y'know, in the end of the world you're bound to get a few cuts and bruises here and there.)
She sells Cigarettes, Batteries, Weapons, Pills, Bullets and services to people who need help or have something she could use.
On her mother's deathbed, she confessed that Beth had a sister. That's one of the reasons Beth decided to get her life in check and go on a journey to find her. Even if she was one of the undead.

Medical Training:
Beth was a shadow of her father, quickly learning many things about being a doctor and following in his footsteps. She can recall from an early age she was extremely good at school, jumping several grades before she was at the age of fourteen. Her father taught her everything she knew, with him being a great doctor. She was exceptionally smart, She had a Scholarship to MIT before the outbreak. At the age of 18 she was a full-fledged doctor, taking courses online and passing all her grades with flying colors. After becoming a doctor from online courses, she graduated college online when she graduated High school at eighteen. She then got accepted to MIT, a college she wanted to go to to get the rest of her degrees. But, right after she graduated College for her second degree, the outbreak destroyed everything she ever cared about. She still is an exceptional doctor, but she has lost interest in most things. She only lives for a few things nowadays, one of them being someone others can rely on, the other searching for the cure on this never-ending journey.
Aside from being a Doctor, Beth also dabbled in Engineering. She often fixed up cars before everything, and she was actually pretty good at it. Not as great at that than being a doctor, but you get the picture. She does what she can fixing up cars now, putting armor on them or attaching weaponry. Being that she has the right parts, of course.

Weaknesses = -
Strengths = +
- She cares too easily. Don't mistake care for trust. She has trouble trusting, but if someone dies in the arms of their love, she's most likely going to break down and cry.
- Her emotions can cloud her judgement
- She's not good with death.
- Most times she will be the girl who questions everything someone says or does. In the best interest of others, of course.
- She's still a teenager, which calls for rash decisions and bad judgement skills.
- She's more likely to shoot at someone than walk up and say hello.
- She's wary of people, because she's seen what they can do.
- Average physical strength for a teenager.
+/- As a doctor, she cares about others, but as a person she has trouble trusting.
+/- She's not extremely strong, but she's not exactly weak either.
+ Her strength is mostly made up of her personality.
+ She has a spitfire personality, which goes hand in hand with her ability to take on projects without little fear.
+ She has a 'leader' ability/attitude, but all the same she wouldn't want to be the one responsible for the life or death decisions.
+ She's a good shot with her sniper. She's named her sniper Spike.
+ She can carry heavy weights on her back.
+ She has very good balance
+ She's a good doctor, quick in scary situations, Usually levelheaded.
+ Good sniper.
+ Beginner Engineer.
+ She's a free runner. It was a hobby before everything happened, and she's still pretty good at it. It makes for an easy getaway, if she needs to.

+ Rambo knife with holster
+ Mk Mod1 Sniper rifle with Silencer and carrying strap.
+ 22LR Pistol with silencer.

+ Compact for makeup
+ Fire starter
+ One lock pick set
+ Five assorted cans of food
+ Four water bottles
+ Jerky
+ Two cans of spam
+ Heavy-duty black respirator
+ Three rolls of toilet paper
+ Binoculars
+ Duct tape.
+ Books. She loves a good book. She has a few in her possession.
+ A crate of batteries, different sizes, for sale.
+ A few packs of cigarettes. She makes her own, selling them from time to time.

+ Two sets of Camo skinny jeans
+ Assorted T-shirts (Graphic design, Baseball Tees, Flannel)
+ Two Black/Purple skinny jeans,
+ Khaki cargo pants
+ Army outfit. (Don't ask her how she got this.)
+ Riot gear outfit. (Probably not best to ask how she has this, either.)
+ Black leather jacket
+ Hooded grey denim and fabric jacket
+ Black leather jacket
+ Leather gloves and a bike helmet.
Medical Equipment: (Used by all three people in her group, and anyone she fixes up along the way.)
+ Five Medical kits, bandages, gauze, tweezers, ect.
+ Three bottles of Antibiotics, Three bottles of Opioids, Three bottles of Antidepressants and Antipsychotics.
One bottle of mixed meds.
+ Three vials of Insulin
+ Anesthetic, Water purification drops, Five Epinephrine injectors
+ Selection of needles/syringes, Sharps box, Vials for collecting blood.
+ Stethoscope, Thermometer, Defibrilator, Selection of tubes/scalpels
+ Small Torch
+ Pocket Diagnosis set, Multiple books on Diagnoses, symptoms and diseases.

Beth sighed, taking off her reading glasses and putting them on her desk. She was working at a university part-time until she got her feet back on the ground. The hospital in which she worked had just been declared unfit to serve, because of some pesky inspector wanting things the hospital wouldn't give. The hospital would be out for two months while fixing these 'problems', and its employees, and its patients would be out of commission until it was fixed. She was working on a lecture to give to undergrad students. She was frustrated after working a full night shift, trying to write up something that was at least legible so others could actually learn from it. Writing was not her strong suit. Neither was speaking in front of a crowd. She ran her hands through her hair, yanking on it a bit. She felt like she was back in high school, writing essays for teachers who didn't appreciate that she was probably smarter than the whole school combined. Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but she was, in fact, smarter than the snobs who worked there. She had hated her teachers, because they were always trying to undermine the students as much as they could. Probably years of working in the same stuffy classroom with the same stuffy teenagers had pushed them over the edge. Whatever the reason, they made it clear she knew how much they hated her. She didn't exactly make it easy on them, either. When they were teaching the class something, she'd butt in every now and then explaining why that theory was wrong or that principle didn't apply. She was only fifteen and she was already a junior. I guess that's what they hated most. They knew she was ahead. They knew she'd go on to higher levels of learning and better jobs while they'd be stuck there. She snapped out of her reverie and groaned, pushing away from her desk. She'd get it done tomorrow. Right now, she needed to go home and take a nice, long bubble bath. Maybe with lavender. That always calmed her down. She picked up her purse and distributed her reading glasses inside. She walked into the hall and saw the other members of faculty huddled around the TV. Some news show was on, a pretty brunette sitting at the desk with papers in her hand. "Oh!" She walked up behind them. "Don't watch that. It'll only rot your brain." Her nose scrunched up. She sounded like her mother. "El, come here." One of them motioned over to her, and with a sigh she walked to where she could get a clear view of the screen, that currently all twenty-six members of the third floor were watching so intently. The screen cut to a man, a microphone in his hand. "Reports are coming in about a group of mad citizens turning on each other." Beth would frown. Turning on each other? 'This wasn't another domestic disturbance, right?' She asked herself. Her question was soon answered. "Witnesses say that the affected were turning on each other, and biting them." The man looked into the camera like he was about to tell the world's biggest secret. "And it's spreading." By now Beth was convinced this was just another big media scare. Safe to say, she wasn't exactly confident in her country's choice of interesting news. But for a few seconds, she kept watching. The man straightened up, the wind blowing around his hair. His gaze cut to something right over the cameraman's shoulder. He backed up, his face contorting a bit in confusion. "What is-" His eyes widened, backing up. He let out a shriek, and the camera turned to show a somebody running towards them. The person's face was deviant, intended for the two in the middle of the street. It ran straight for the man with the camera, and the camera was dropped when the man pounced. The camera fell, its image cracking up a bit before becoming clear again. It showed the news reporter running, and several more people tackling the man, one biting into his neck. He screamed out, and the group around her gasped as the footage continued to watch the man be devoured by the hungry beings. Then something went after the camera, the feed going dark. The crowd that was grouped around the TV backed up a bit, whispers spreading throughout them. Someone switched the channel, and there was a static on that too. They flipped it again, and an image came across. A person huddled in an office with a camera. "If you're seeing this, then you already know what's happening. They're everywhere. They killed my coworkers.." A few tears fell from her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away. "A secretary. She was the first one in here. She came in during a news broadcast and started attacking people. She bit them, and-" She stopped, closing her eyes for a few seconds and shaking her head slightly. "Then they changed too. I don't know how it happens, but it's like a virus. One bites another one, and they turn into something else. Something bad." She stopped talking, and the sounds of screams could be heard from her position. "If you find one, or rather if one finds you, run. Get away. Go somewhere, arm yourself. Because they will find you. And they will kill you. My name is Marai Kellis. Remember me." She raised a gun to her forehead, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger. The camera dropped and laid on the floor, and only then could Beth see the badge on the woman's shirt. Then growls filled the room of her office, drawn to the sound of the gunshot. They found her body, and dug in.
Beth shaded her eyes, cringing and grabbing the remote, shutting off the TV. "No, No. This isn't happening." She said, putting her fingers on the bridge of her nose. "It's all a scare. Some stupid April fools joke." But it wasn't April, and it wasn't a joke. Then, noises came from the end of the office hallway. Scratching, tapping. Little scuff noises. Then a face emerged. And then two. And three. Two out of the three had blood running down their faces and on their hands, streaks on their clothes. Then she saw the third. The third's stomach was cut wide open, blood running and intestinal organs falling out with every step she made. Beth's eyes widened. No human could survive that. Certainly not survive that and keep moving the way the woman did. Her coworkers broke out into screams, and the things down the hall broke into attack mode. Beth was among one of the screamers. Well, not initially, but when the first started attacking others, she made a beeline for the closest door she could find. Locked. Locked. Locked! She turned to look behind and saw the woman advancing, some of her organs spilling out and tripping her. She fell, and Beth ran. She ran, coming up on a dead end. The woman had gotten back up, and had started walking closer to Beth. This time, she wasn't running. She was walking. Slowly advancing. Like it was a game. Like she was the cat and Beth was the mouse. And we all know who wins there.
Screams emerged from the rest of the building, and the woman turned her head to look back, her attention captured for a minute. Beth took that as a sign to run up to the nearest door and jiggle the doorknob. And to her luck, it opened. She ran inside and closed the door, locking it. The woman turned back and grunted. Beth could imagine that if this was a book, the woman would be saying something like, 'Where did my prey go?' But this wasn't a book. And it sure as hell wasn't funny. Beth turned around, looking around the room. She saw a chair and grabbed it, putting it underneath the doorknob. The jingling of the knob alerted the woman's attention and she ran up, well, not up, but right at it. A large thump could be heard, and Beth backed away. It seemed to be a small supply room. She searched through the cabinets, looking for something, anything, to arm herself. Just like the woman said. 'Yeah, just before she died.' A voice inside her head told her. She pushed it away. "Now is not the time to be going crazy, alright?" She asked herself, sort of rhetorically. She found a scalpel, and sighed in relief. Although she didn't know what she could do with it. It wasn't like physical injuries stopped them. Except for tripping them. What even were they? Certainly not human. At least she didn't think so. Thump. Beth stared at the door, a few moments passing by. Thump. She held her scalpel out in front of her. Thump. Thump. Thump. THUMP. The knocks got more frequent, to the point where she knew that there were more than one. She turned back to the cabinets and started rushing through them. A scalpel wouldn't help. Certainly not with more than one. She saw tongue depressors, boxes of gloves, even a bandage box or two. She looked in the bottom cabinets and found a large duffel bag. She picked it up. Okay, maybe not what she was expecting. But maybe it could help. If she got out alive. She pulled out a drawer and found needles. She put a large box of them in the bag, throwing whatever seemed useful from the drawers in. She looked around and rushed over to a small refridgerator. She opened it, smiling at what was inside. Medicine, pain relievers and more. She dumped it into the bag, rooting through a few more shelves. She found antibiotics and pills, to which she put as much as she could in the bag. She didn't even know why she was taking these things, just that impending doom was nearby and hoarding was satisfying her OCD. She added random stuff, anything that seemed useful. Medical kits. Useful. Respirators, useful. Standard condoms? Not useful. She, after finding that the bag was heavy by now, decided to try and find an exit. If not, she would just shoot herself up with whatever was in one of the vials she threw in her bag and let herself choke on her own vomit. That was a better choice than being one of them. 'No, no,' she told herself. 'You are not going to die.' She sat back, looking around the small room. She checked the closets, small windows, heck she even checked for loose paneling in the walls. But to no avail. Then she spotted it. A small, grated vent. A vent big enough to fit her and the bag. She grinned, getting up on the counter. She used the scalpel to take off the screws and pulled herself up into the vent. She started crawling, and moments after she got a small distance away from the hole she heard a crash, following multiple groans coming from the small room.
The streets were chaos. People were running, screaming, children crying, some were praying to their gods. She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and started running. The first thing she found was an abandoned ambulance, the keys still in the ignition. She checked to make sure that there were no 'surprises' inside before she got in and started it up, rushing past the groups of things that defied all laws of nature.

She got home after a few minutes of panic-driving, rushing into her home and taking comfort in the solitude for once. One thing was evident. She needed a weapon. And she knew exactly where to get it. When she was ten, her grandfather bought her a sniper rifle. "Woah," Her parents had said. "Dad, she's only ten. She could blow her foot off with this." Her grandfather chuckled. "There's no ammunition in there. Plus, I'll teach her how to use it. She can already use a huntin' rifle, and she's a pretty darn good shot too." After promising not to let her kill someone, her parents calmed down and left young Beth alone with her grandfather. "When I was around nineteen, I enlisted in the war. They taught me a lot, including how to use a sniper rifle much like this one. One day, there's going to be a war. A worldwide war. And I want you to be ready." All through her childhood he taught her about weapons and the importance of using one only in the direst of times. And now, the time had finally come. She went to her bedroom and pulled the large navy box out from underneath her bed, opening the case and taking a glimpse at the large gun. There were several clips as well as multiple boxes of ammunition. She picked up the box, grabbing clothes and other items as well as food and personal things. She needed to get out of the city. She loaded the things in the ambulance, making her way downtown.

Vehicle: Converted Ambulance.

Portable Lab
Back of Ambulance changed into living area.
Microscope, Lab tools
Gasoline Can with Funnel and tubes for taking gas out of other vehicles.
Clothes (For all three People)




George 'Geo' Ridana

Geo's a tall, fit man whose height is 6'2". He constantly keeps up his physique with workouts and hunting, sometimes spending hours in the zombie-infested world, improving his fighting techniques or his physical aspects.
He's a good fighter, an even better liar, and the 'handyman' of the team.


Geo's been in New York for a few weeks. He arrived with Beth, and they're accomplices, for lack of a better word.

Geo was born to a couple of high-power executives with the swanky house and the Lamborghini in the garage. They were a power couple, ones that had worked their way up the ladder to executive position. That was what people knew them as. What they didn't know, was that the couple were criminals.
Con-men, Wrongdoer, Breaker-Of-Laws. Call it what you wish. But they had pawned many out of their money, and even more into dept. Well, turns out they didn't want a child. They only kept him because Abortion was the one line they wouldn't cross. They left him at the steps of an orphanage, in which they never looked back.
Growing up, he had foster parents that were cruel or con artists themselves. To them, the whole foster parent scheme was a con. They adopt an unknowing kid, they get paid to look after them. What else was that easy?
He always saw how they got the better end of the deal, as people like him always drew the short stick.
Funny enough, he grew up after an 'image' of them. He learned the ways of the con artist, pick-pocketing street walkers, boosting cars. Anything he could do to make a bit of quick cash, he would. He was too smart for his own good, and that added to the fact that he rarely got caught. If he did, he could always worm his way out of it somehow or another.
He had felt guilty at first, thinking that he was taking people's hard-earned money. But then he stumbled across a truth that had stuck to him like wine to your favourite shirt. Everyone has something in their closet. Something that makes them less than everyone else. But if everyone was less than someone else, where did it stop?
He learned that everyone has something they've done, or not done, to make them responsible for it. And that calmed his nerves. Let him sleep better at night, knowing he wasn't taking from truly innocent people. I guess there's a truth to that, but at the same time, does that make it right?
His smooth words and charismatic attitude is one thing that can lure people in and use them to his advantage.
George Ridana is charming, sophisticated, and probably one of the only people left in the world that can manipulate people like putty in his hands.
He uses his good looks, his fitness, his brilliant out-of-the-box thinking, ability to talk, lie or charm his way out of (or into) anything, and charisma. These traits prove to be crucial necessities in his line of work, and serve as an advantage in the many instances where his or another person's life is on the line.

Relation to Beth:
They're accomplices. She found that he was a good negotiator and he found that she was a good doctor. He contributed the medical supplies he did have to her. It wasn't like he could use them like she could, anyways.
Romantically, he doesn't like her. He thinks of her more like a sister than a lover, or anything in that realm.

He hates guns, but has one for emergency purposes.
A S&W Bodyguard.

Handmade knife he'd made from bone.

'Brush' Sword.

Essentials, Toilet paper, Fire starter, Water bottles, Food, Small battery-powered radio, shirts and jeans, rope, State maps, Respirator, Standard first aid kit, Whet stone, Bones, Knife handles, sharp metal pieces, fishing wire, expandable fishing rod, small tackle kit.
People. Cons. Elaborate plans. Good thinkers. Being in charge. Playing people. Mangoes. Knives. Hunting. Fighting.
People who know who he truly is. Mosquitoes. Zombie bites. (Well, Dur.) Apples. Granola bars.
Lying. Conning. Hunting. Fighting, whether it be zombies, others, or himself. Being handy. Is good at creating Aliases, backstories. Protecting others. Surviving. Good with knives.

Just one thing. Don't-Don't get yourself trapped up with him. He's charming and might seem amazing, but he might just be the one to break your heart. And now, if you get a broken heart you get careless. And careless, in this world, is as good as dead.




Everleigh 'Eve' Griswald
Everleigh is 4'3, A small girl with blonde hair and brown eyes. She has faint freckles around her nose, barely visible. Her golden hair is curly and shoulder-length.
A t-shirt and jeans, usually paired with a hoodie and sneakers.
Eve is a sweet girl who always tries to brighten somebody's day. Whether it be her friends, other survivors or even small animals or insects. She has an optimistic view on life, even in this constant horror. Beth and Geo do their best to shield her from the scary world out there, but for the most part she's not afraid. She's quite smart for her age, and quite aware of others around her. She speaks in quotes, sometimes, and those are easily her favourite things.
Pretty flowers
The warm sun
Having company
Being able to see the sun while it's raining
Soft beds

The Cold
When people are mean
Being in trouble
People looking down on her because she's young
Being hungry
Hard beds
Scary people

She's sweet and kind, despite the circumstances. She'll always be seen with a smile on her face. (Unless something sad happens.)
She can get into small places easily. She can climb things, onto counters or on top of things easily. She can also climb through windows, which helps when you need to get into a house or check a small area out.
Even though she's so young, she's a smart girl and picks things up easily. More than once she's been the one to give their small group good plans on how to escape, find food or other things.
Empathy- She can read people like books.
Others underestimate her constantly, but it gives her an advantage.

Weak- Not physically strong.
She's not exactly the fastest runner, so sometimes she has to be carried by Beth or another survivor if they're running from danger.
A kid-
Being a kid in the zombie apocalypse screams easy target, whether it's the undead or other survivors.
Gets tired easily-
Because she's small, she gets tired easily when having to travel or run for long distances. She has to stop for rest every now and then.
Lack of sleep due to nightmares.
Incredibly scared of Thunderstorms. Can barely function when in one.
She also gets incredibly scared of Zombies or the infected.

A small photo of her parents, Two water bottles and some food, A large kitchen knife, extra clothes, A blanket, Her favourite teddy bear. She uses her school backpack to carry things.
She came with Beth and Geo, living in the converted ambulance for days at a time. But she wasn't complaining, they had comfortable beds in the back of the Ambulance.

Where are they located? The New York of City. (Can be changed to London if needed.)
So, the History/Flashback/Beginning part was to show how Beth got the drugs and supplies, so it didn't seem like I was trying to make an OP character in terms of medical supplies. But I got carried away and ended up typing a whole essay. (The irony). If you need me to change the location from New York to London, I can do that. Just let me know. Thank you, if you actually bared through the whole beginning/history/flashback post. Cookies for you.
Someone share the link? I'm having issues.
Hey can you just make it so my character gets killed? Im so sorry...I have to drop out. Im nit only sick but, i have a lot of stuff going on at University and its hard with all of this and catching up on Iwaku replies. I can only fit a few at once.
Alright. Can we make it to where they do team up but she trips as she jumps to get to the ledge and fall into the horde below? It's a plausible death.
Can I reply tomorrow? Im really dosing
Sure thing. You get some rest and try to feel better.
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